The Magic of You
by sheshsopno
Summary: 19 yeas ago,a promise was broken, a mistake was made, a secret was kept.... 19 yrs later, time has healed all wounds but the one in their hearts... Previously known as - Never Concieted -Post DH
1. Affecting Passion

**Never Conceited **

**Author's Note: **

Hey a short fic loosely based on the movie "Becoming Jane" which has captivated me utterly as a 'vigorous' fan of Jane Austen's…I adore her writing…neway hope this fic isn't to much of a disgrace to her own story…loosely of course because of….well you'll find out….BTW it is post the eighth chapter in the DH and starts around Christmas, kind of another take on how the other's spent their time while, the trio hunted the horcruxes.

It will disregard the book on most factual bases after the eighth chapter.

**Chapter One: **

**Affecting Passion**

Lean fingers ran through immaculately groomed hair as, the lithe body, toned from once spending years in Quidditch training, paced the antique Persian rug that covered the floor of the elegant study.

Wand in hand he meticulously continued to tear apart, said 'elegant study' part by deplorable part.

The mahogany shelves found themselves collapsing as century's worth of books and ledgers tumbled to the ground.

Exclusive portraits, torn apart with absurdly powerful slashing hexes.

In fact it soon seemed that the only object to have survived this flight of fury was the crystal decanter which was now pouring an amber liquid into the one crystal glass that had survived, and automatically found itself in its master's hand.

_Almost two decades and __**still**__ the pain was just as potent as it had been so long ago._

_Would it ever stop, would it ever become less…the torture, the agony, the __**ache**_

He shut his eyes in cold remembrance.

DG NC DG

"I wonder, how it is that you of all people can dispose of yourself to _affection_." He spat the word out as if it was the vilest poison.

Brown eyes, had glazed over with tears at the mere sound of the voice behind her.

"As opposed to what, passion?

Inequity and discrimination?

Forgive me, if I find affection, however lame it may seem to you, to be the better option."

"And when your affection for Potter dwindles, Weaseley?" he asked his voice as aloof as hers was broken

"Affection does not dwindle Draco; unfortunately, the same cannot be said for passion."

This said she turned, her head bent low over her shoulder's as she turned to walk away.

Draco however, was much to infuriated by the chit's response, to notice such tell-tale signs of remorse. He spun almost immediately after and with a few quick steps grabbed her by her arm and pulled her into the dark cover of the green house, thrusting her against the wall, with a none to gentle, push.

Huge brown eyes looked almost fearfully into what looked for a moment like solid metal, in its purest form.

A smirk lifted the corner of Draco's mouth as he recognized the terror in her eyes, knowing she feared more than just him, she feared even more that he was right.

"Let's test that theory, shall we?"

Lips smooth as satin slid over Ginny's own.

Fusing over hers, they slanted teasingly down, giving him room to nibble in an unforeseen gesture at her bottom lip.

Despite, having waited patiently for her lips to part with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sought admittance.

It was just as her tongue rose to meet his, in this duel of ardor that, a loud, almost panic stricken voice, rang out.

"Ginny!"

As if in instinctive reaction, she pulled away from him at the same moment in which he pulled her closer.

His teeth grazed her lip once again in effort to keep them from leaving his.

The voice now closer continued to ring through the school yard.

"Don't go." He demanded his voice hoarse, and only he, knew how much that short statement had cost him, not that, that thought had stopped him.

He could feel the trauma in the voice, as only one like him, who had spent time in such close quarters with it could.

Suddenly she leaned forward, pressing her lips tightly against his, his grip slackened, and in the same moment she moved out of the safety of his reach.

She took a few deliberate steps backward before with a small shaky smile at him, she answered the voice in a voice even shakier than her smile.

Silver eyes watched, silently tormented, as she continued to cross over towards the voice in wide strides.

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**A/N: ** Yipeeeeee!! Another Fanfic……dunno if I'm going to continue, I think I'll let the review count be the judge of that……hint, hint!


	2. The Boundaries of Propriety

**Chapter One: **

**The ****Boundaries**** of propriety **

"Ridiculous!" came the loud voice, the absolute fury and plain annoyance more than viable in the pale blonde's very appearance.

"Draco it's not like we have much choice in the matter." Consoled his mother, although a faint trace of annoyance was heard in her own voice, which, unlike his was held in a much gentler pitch.

Silver eyes blazed as he sent a swift piercing glance to his mother. That classless, Aunt Bella! Oh she'd married well, but not as well as her darling younger sister and as if in retribution for that, ever since his father's downfall she'd had taken over her sister's household.

True, they needed her support if they were to help his father ……but slumming?!

"Technically their relatives and pure-blood's for that matter, so Bella doesn't see it as slumming."

Doesn't hurt that the family's only daughter was also the only Gryffindor spy they had in Hogwarts. Which also explained why, what Romilda wanted, Romilda got.

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"Aw…'come on! This is so not fair!" Huge brown eyes looked pleadingly from one brother to another.

Each pair, of cool blue eyes, deliberately, avoiding her gaze.

"Bill!?" she asked her voice filled with incredulity that her eldest and most protective brother would actually allow her to be shipped of to be slaughtered like this.

Bill look guiltily up, "Sorry love, but Fleur will throw me outta the house if she hears I'm spending the first Christmas 'as a couple' at Vane Lane that plus I leave for Romania the next day on a mission."

"Charlie?" she asked , deliberately softening her voice so that is sounded soft and innocent, as she tried her favorite brother, " You really don't have to go to Messalina's parents house, this Christmas do you?"

"Nope." He replied cheerfully, "Only if I want to keep them from locking her in her bedroom when, they find out she's pregnant and then join Charlie in Europe…except I got…umm Albania I think."

Ginny groaned.

She turned her imploring gaze to the twins. "C'mon, you'll adore being there, just imagine the number of hexes you'll be able to pull on Romilda…" she coaxed.

"No can do Gin, you know mum'll never let Forge go, just after he lost his ear too," said Fred with a sad smile, no doubt already pining for all the tricks they could have pulled on the reputedly snobbish Gryffindor .

Ginny pulled her knees up on the rickety bed and put her head between them rocking herself slowly as most trauma patients tended to, while moaning, "No, no ,noooo…"

"Think of it this way, Hun," whispered Charlie as he snuck an arm around her shoulder's, "You're helping the Order, just think of it as your first potentially fatal Order mission."

"Fat lot of help that'll do her." Said Fred.

"Yup, especially since this girl can brew potions, so well slimy ol' Snape compliments her, and also seems to lack, how do you say…a conscience!" snapped Ginny caustically.

"Why is her family even insisting we, that **I**, visit anyway?!" snapped Ginny.

Bill gave a sad smile, "We all know why, in part because they think if they can put one of the Weaseley's there that Harry might possibly show…and they also know the possibility is most with you Ginger, you are his girlfriend…"

"No I'm not! I haven't been since last year! Damn it!"

"I wonder why she's a Gryffindor?" asked George, referring to Romilda, still tending to be somewhat on the slow side these days.

"Daring nerve?" offered Bill.

Ginny however merely groaned again and repeated her moaning ritual with much more flourish, praying fervently for a miracle.

"Oh don't worry, hun, school starts two weeks after Christmas." Intoned Charlie in what was supposedly a soothing tone.

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**A/N: ** Yeaaaaaaaaaa!!! I actually did manage a second chappie!! Lol!!

Hmmmmmmm gotta few scenes in mind but don't worry I doubt this will be half as long as my other fics…I'll try to keep it short!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	3. Season Delights

**Chapter Three: **

**Season delights**

"Ginerva! Why you made it!" exclaimed Romilda, as her disdainful gaze went over the simple white cloak Ginny had on over her hand-embroidered peach tinted robes.

Ginny who had merely raised an unaffected brow at the other girls disrespectful gaze, allowed her answering tone to be politely bored, "Surprise, surprise!"

Romilda, who was still watching over Ginny's shoulder as if not being able to believe Harry hadn't stormed in behind her, missed the sarcasm that laced the other girls words, nodded in agreement.

Ginny rolled her eyes deciding to follow the elf who had taken her trunk up, to find her room.

"Will you be needing anything else, Miss?" asked the haughty house-elf.

Ginny had been quietly observing how the elf, through nothing more than meaningful glances and carefully worded phrases, expressed how very lowly he thought of 'little Miss Weaseley' who was so blatantly open with the servants and publicly insulted their young mistress.

However for some reason this young elves misinterpretation of loyalty was not something, she could find it in her heart to blame him for.

So with a twisted smile, that explained quite thoroughly that he had indeed not hurt her sensibilities but merely, amused her in a way, Ginny dismissed the elf.

"Miss will be expected for dinner at eight." he intoned before disapparating with a loud snap.

"Merlin's balls! Even the house-elves are conceited!" Ginny muttered with a mock shudder.

Ironically, five rooms down from where Miss. Weaseley stood, another guest seemed to have a very different idea.

_Pathetic! No __ghosts,__ and service so slow they couldn't possibly have more than a few house-elves. _

Draco watched dispassionately as the groveling elf unpacked his suitcase, his carefully pressed, hand tailored robes finding a place amongst padded hangers in the closet.

He was beginning to feel like a piece of prime meat hanging from a butchers shop window.

From the moment he had arrived, he rudely was acquainted with the fact that not only was he not the guest at Vane Lane for the next few weeks, but the only guest he would probably get much of a reprieve from was Weaseley.

And the sole reason behind that was that he doubted that the boy-wonder's girlfriend would be chasing after him in a pre-season party when she without a doubt knew, a bit if not all, of what was going on politically in the wizarding world right then.

The most she was likely to do was brandish her wand at him and attempt to hex him.

Considering that he had just got back from a grueling death-eater training session, that was not something he was worried about.

Simpering debutante's and their whimpering mama's on the other hand were a completely different story.

Normally he'd deliver a crushing set down which would have the young lady in question whimpering in tune with mama dearest…

Unfortunately if he had to stay on the 'good-side' of Miss. Vane as Aunt Bella obviously expected him to, that was no longer a viable option.

Damn that woman.

She knew…she knew he deliberately avoided these 'society parties' every holiday season, preferring a short jaunt in Europe to the torture of being every mama's 'target'…

He had to figure something out, he decided, his gaze lifting to the window that over looked the gardens, a dainty little hand waved furiously at him, while the lovely Miss. Vane sent him a smoldering look as she looked up at the object of her young friends' distraction.

He had better figure something out fast, he amended.

By the time the elf had returned to call Ginny down for dinner, Ginny had not only indulged in a hot soak, but also decided that unless she wanted to be on the receiving end of another of Romilda's strictures on appearances she should pay a little attention to her own appearance, at least on her first night here.

Besides since she was here she might as well do a bit of snooping for the Order, she'd be inducted as a member in a year or two.

In effect, the Ginny Weaseley that descended the overly dramatic spiral staircase, had 'a look about her' as most of the elder generation would say, the younger would probably use much looser terms.

Ginny had always known that innocent and casual would not be the look to go for if she wanted immediate entrance in the inner circle of the 'ladies'….the only way she would get that was if she was perceived as an immediate threat to their 'men'…they were witch's after all not idiots…well not most of them…as a potential threat they would follow the policy of keeping their friends close and enemies closer.

"Circe! Is who is that?" asked Isabella Carseer, an exotic Latina, who had traveled from Spain to join her cousin in her pre-season coming out party.

Romilda, herself dressed in designer emerald blue robes with her hair tied back with an emerald and sapphire comb, raised amused eyes to the young witch descending the stairs, and for a moment it took even her a second to recognize the witch she had spent over a year hating with a vengeance.

A pale caramel colored robe was draped over lush curves, displaying one bare shoulder, lowering and clutching at the waist in a brazen imitation of a muggle fashion cut, before flowing out in elegant display of calves, courtesy of a nearly knee high slash on her right side, wine colored pencil heels, with ballet slipper style ribbons reaching halfway up her calves. Flaming red hair had been teased into a Grecian knot with a few stray locks framing not her face as was customary but lay fanning the hollow of her collar bone which drew immediate attention to her gracefully long neck.

The one piece of jewelry was framed by the flaming locks, a beautifully cut opal, hung suspended from a dragon-scale chain.

"Why if it isn't the youngest Weaseley, trying to measure up," snickered Romilda amused.

Isabella sent her own amused glance at her cousin, "Look carefully Milli, that chain is spun of dragon scales, that locket is a damn large opal, and nearly flawless, it appears to me that the measuring up portion is one she's already done with her boyfriend…Circe! Isn't she Potter's girlfriend?"

Romilda sent her European cousin a glacial look, before redirecting her gaze to the witch in question, "She won't be for long." She said more to herself than to anyone else.

Malfoy, however, as he told himself, had been nearly impervious to her dramatic entrance.

Not that the witch's brazen disregard for the acceptable and non-acceptable had escaped his notice.

But he would wager his inheritance that in no way was her 'effect' _accidental_.

The triumphant victory that had shone in her amber colored eyes could be seen even from his position at the drinks table, and her slightly smug smirk wasn't helping her any.

She had known her muggle cut robes would create a stir, for good reason too, wizarding robes were never as revealing as muggle attire, especially the dress robes for debutante's.

Some gothic notion about making the wizard 'work for it'.

Smirking Draco raised the glass to his lips, pondering what these ideologists would say if they realized that the most 'work' he'd ever had to do was raise an eyebrow and jerk his head in the direction of the intended room.

Draco watched over the top of his glass of fire whiskey, as the youngest Weaseley was immediately inducted into the elite group, Romlida Vane, Isabella Carseer prevailing as they introduced her to the rest of the group as if she was a long lost friend.

She must be ecstatic about making it in the 'it' group, he thought with a mental sneer, poor pathetic weasel playing in the popular circle.

As if some sixth sense had alerted her to his gaze and thoughts, the brandy colored eyes he had been thinking of moments ago turned ever so slightly and looked straight at him, then simultaneously three things happened, Weaseley smiled ever so becomingly at him, and taking leave of her friends she started walking toward him, nodding softly as he raised an inquiring brow, she stopped beside him for a split millisecond and then with a barely audible "You wish, ferret…" she dropped into a curtsey beside him and walked past him her hand clutched in Avery's much lager palm, as he led the girl into the first dance of the night, at the same time Romilda Vane who had viewed this exchange with veiled contempt, allowed Blaise to lead her of onto the dance floor, and a house-elf who had been hurrying across the floor with a barely balanced tray of drinks slipped and fell just a foot from the drinks table.

Nobody noticed Malfoy's left hand which loosely held his wand to his side.

Within moments the entire ballroom ended up in chaos.

Shrieks of outrage, gasps and cries filled the ballroom while most of the dance floor partners made their way to the ladies room or a secluded corner to repair what they could of their appearance.

Malfoy watched, detachedly and unnoticed in the chaos followed Miss Weaseley into the gardens where she retreated after a quick apology to her partner.

He had noticed that her reaction was not to gasp in outrage but to swear rather colorfully under her breath.

She turned the corner of the garden hedges, and Draco was forced to pause to help an elderly witch pass by him.

As he turned the corner he, saw her slide her hand up her thigh, and pull out her wand.

She cleaned up with a quick spell and was sliding her hand back up her robe when lounging against a particularly tall hedge he drawled, "Such an imaginative place to keep your wand, Weasel."

He watched amused as she spun around at the sound of his voice.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and Draco watched as she kept her grip on her wand. "What do you want Mal-ferret?" she snapped.

Amused, Draco allowed an infuriating smirk toy with the corners of his lips as he lifted an admonishing brow and scolded, "Temper, temper."

Smiling sweetly, and with only a split second of hesitation Ginny raised her wand almost imperceptibly beside her, intending to wipe that infuriating smirk of his aristocratic face with a well aimed hex.

Unfortunately the fates seemed to be against her because somehow within the half second she had hesitated, the smooth sleek wood of Draco's wand was comfortably aimed just under her chin.

His infuriating smirk still in place, he moved a step closer to her.

Amazingly the red-head showed no fear despite being cornered by a marked death-eater, son of the Dark-Lord's right hand man, a situation which would have most grown men tremble, in fact when she defiantly lifted her chin, Draco felt a strong urge crack a grin at her nerve.

Suppressing it behind a low seductive chuckle, he stepped deliberately closer into her personal space.

His wand, now lightly, grazing the underside of her chin.

To his constant surprise, she cocked a brow at him and in a utterly bored voice stated, " We both know you aren't doing anything to me in a public area like this, so why don't you get over your show of 'superiority' and get to the business of telling me what it is you want."

Draco would have almost believed that little Ginny Weaseley was as cool as newt blood.

Almost.

If it weren't for the fact that the pulse a few inches from his wand was beating faster than a pixie beat its wings.

And the slight almost imperceptible tremor that was running through her being.

He debated on whether to further torment the chit, or if he should put into words the impossible 'arrangement' he had quickly and quietly formed in his mind's eye.

Miss. Vane's quiet and almost unnoticed arrival at the edge of the patio, decided the matter for him.

To the youngest Weasley, his sudden withdrawal of his wand was both shocking and confusing, even more confusing, and infinitely more alarming was the way his blonde head had bent down to the point where his lips were barely an inch from hers.

"Don't panic, and don't fight," he whispered softly against her lips, taking full advantage of her shock, he continued his calm monologue, while his wand continued to poke at her waist where his arm was wrapped around it, " I have ….a proposition for you."


	4. Simple Solutions, Complex Conditions

**Chapter Four**

**Simple solutions, Complex conditions**

"Why don't you stop squirming like a blast-ended-skrewt for just one minute and, let go for a walk shall we?"

Ginny glared mutinously at the arrogant blonde, but a quiet voice reminded her exactly why she was here, to observe and pass on information, no doubt anything Draco Malfoy had to say to her would be something the Order would want to know about.

Silently she followed him as bidden, into the man-made maze that had been instilled a few years ago at Vane Lane. It was rumored that the maze was almost impossible to get out of without magic, it was also said 'that' was not the only reason that the couple that walked in took ample time finding their way out.

She stopped in her tracks as she heard a muffle sound come from the other side of a hedge…had Malfoy, tricked her here….?

However by then Malfoy too had turned in his steps and was looking curiously at the same hedge. With a swift amused look at her he drew his wand and pointed it to the shrub…for a scant ten seconds the hedge turned transparent, however it appeared the 'couple' on the other side were in as much a state of reveal as possible.

Draco smirked broadly for he had recognized both the young suitors in question, Misters Flitch and Smith, had presented his companion with the most shocking bit of new gossip he was sure.

"Was that Zack Smith and Marcus Flitch?" she asked as if she could not believe her own eyes.

"Shocked?" he asked dryly.

"Oh, my God, Lavender is going to have an apoplexy!" she predicted in dire tones.

"Ms. Brown had a thing for Smith I presume."

"Lavender just broke up with her now ex-boyfriend telling him he should learn from her present how to treat a lady. Her present and ex are Marcus and Zack respectively!" she intoned, in a voice barely suppressing her laughter.

Malfoy raised a brow. "Evidently Ms. Brown needs to keep a firmer hand on her men."

Ginny still shaking with amusement, didn't bother to answer.

"Fortunately, we are not here to discuss Miss Browns sleeping partner's," drawled Malfoy in his most condescending tone.

Ginny merely looked up, silently asking, then why exactly are we here?

"We both have certain things we can offer each other. I am proposing a trade off."

Rolling her eyes mockingly Ginny turned to leave, "There is nothing that you can offer me Malfoy that I would possibly want and rest assured there is nothing I have that could help you that I would possibly be willing to give you."

"You aren't very smart are you? Turning down an offer before you've heard it, I would have expected more from an Order spy." He intoned nonchalantly, as if commenting on the weather.

Ginny froze.

A sardonic smirk not atypical of him, dawned on his shapely lips. "I presume you are now prepared to hear me out Weaselette?"

Ginny spun around on her heel having allowed herself a moment to gather herself. "Of course, ferret, what message is your 'master' sending." Her veiled reference, to his association with the Dark Lord, deliberately bland.

"Good. Now that we both know where we stand lets be frank. You're mission is to spy on Romilda, mine is to spy on Romilda as well. Not for the same reasons of course, but never-the-less we bear the same target. I unfortunately have a problem, Miss Vane has a tendency to be attracted to men like myself and unfortunately is usually accommodated, I have no intention to become one of her whims, for that purpose I need a distraction, someone to show interest in someone who is more valuable to my cause. Someone like you."

"And you of course expect me to accommodate you because of my legendary graciousness?" she asked scathingly.

Malfoy almost grinned. "No, I expect you to co-operate because becoming my latest interest is the quickest and most fool proof way for you to gain entry into Romilda's circle where you need to be to accomplish your mission."

"I am doing quite well on my own thanks."

"Oh?" he queried, with such arrogance Ginny had to trample her urge to stomp on him. "Your change of appearance will not hold their attention more than a day unless there is the issue of a male interested. And I assure you none of the men will step up if the word is spread that I intend on having you, they won't even come near you."

"And what do you gain from this?"

"I have a perfectly legitimate excuse to avoid Romilda's clutches."

Ginny frowned, her instincts were telling her this was the chance she was looking for, but logic told her this could only lead to disaster.

"I need time."

"You have until dinner tonight." He drawled, "If you wish to accept my proposition, go off to the balcony before the first dance and this little play of ours can begin."

Ginny nodded, silently.

"Very well shall we head back to the house then," he motioned her forward and proffered his arm.

Curious about the accuracy of his judgment of Romilda, Ginny accepted, eager to see if indeed an acquaintance with him would grant her the inner circle entry she needed.

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	5. The Opening Act

**Chapter Five: **

**The Opening Act**

**A/N: ** Hey!! Hope you've been enjoying the fic so far, umm a few things, one, yes I do know that Ginny's real name is not Virginia…I just always thought it suited her better, two, I made up Malfoy's middle name cuz I don't know his real one, anyone who knows it is welcome to correct me….:D……and three, if you are reading the fic, please do review….it's the only form of payment we fanfic authors receive and it really does mean a lot to us…so PLZ do REVIEW!!

"So who you got your eye on this season 'Mil?" asked Isabelle, staring out the window from her cousin's room as she magically re-did her nails.

Romilda looked up from the little dresser where she'd been giving herself a touch-up, and smacked her lips loudly before turning around and addressing her cousin.

"I'm not sure, Harry of course, would be my first choice, but considering he might be busy this season with fighting you-know-who…"

"Yeah, that, and the fact, that him and Weaseley were practically engaged, and him refusing to get involved, ever since!"

Romilda glared mutinously at her cousin, and continuing as if she hadn't heard, "…I figured I might check Draco out this season…so what do you think?" she asked giving her cousin a little pirouette as she showed off her new riding outfit.

Isabelle turned carefully pulling the shades apart, and motioned for her cousin to come forward.

Standing slightly back as her cousin got a good view of the quaint little scene before her, Isabelle mock-innocently said, "I think, someone's beat you too it, again."

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"Well, well," gushed a leggy brunette as she watched Draco and Ginny strolled out of the maze, "Draco! Why it's been so long dear. How is your father?"



Draco inclined his head shortly in acknowledgement, and answered her briefly before pointedly introducing Ginny, who had been stifling painful shouts of laughter as she watched the woman's expression go from shock –to- false joy-to- polite curiosity in mere seconds.

After a polite minute of conversation Draco pulled her away into the Rose garden discreetly cornering her between a bush and the wall while he blocked view of her face with a tactfully placed arm against the wall.

Raising both brows, Ginny with deliberate sarcasm looked first from his face to his arm and then back, questioningly.

Draco as per usual, smirked. Shifting her so her face came mere inches from his Draco laughed huskily in her ear.

"Is there something profoundly humorous behind my ear, Malfoy?" Ginny asked caustically, pushing against him with her hands. Regretting profoundly, having agreed to his proposition, as they came out of the maze instead of waiting till dinner.

Pulling her closer to himself, with his free hand, which now encircled her waist, Draco smirked again, "You Gryffindor's are so pathetic at games aren't you. Stop struggling," he commanded, despite the fact that his brute strength already had over powered her pushes, " or Miss Vane's cousin, who by the way is spying on us from her window is going to report this as rape instead of a romantic interlude."

Ginny froze for a minute before answering dryly, "You wouldn't happen to have eyes at the back of your head would you?"

Ginny could practically feel him smirk against her neck. "By dinner tonight Stella, that's Mrs. Zabini the third, who happens to be the biggest female gossip as well as being 23years younger than her husband…"

Ginny gasped. "23?!"

"…yes, the first Mrs. Zabini divorced her husband when she found him cheating on her while she was pregnant, he got married two years later and divorced a year after that, he was caught cheating on his then wife with his ex-wife and that was another messy divorce … now this buxom blonde he married a year ago however….I am quite sure that he is still having a torrid affair with Mrs. Bulstrode…"

"No way!"

"That is the way of life here in high society London Weasel," he remarked blandly, amusement at her prim wrinkling of her nose, making him smirk, again, " anyway, _she_ will have it all over the hall in less then twenty 

minutes that you and I are an item, something which will be confirmed by Miss. Isabelle Carseer. Brace yourself," he warned, lightly, "Miss. Vane is going to come on pretty strong."

"And if you're wrong?" asked Ginny he tone implying that was precisely what she expected.

His eye on the cluster of shadows drawing near, he dipped his head and caught her lips in a particularly bruising kiss, pulling back ever so slightly so that his lips were still on her lips he whispered, " Three,…two…"

"Oh, Merlin!" Trilled a high pitched voice just behind them, Ginny watched Draco's smirk fall into place, before with deliberately languorous reaction, he turned, sliding his hand behind her and turning her with him.

"Was there something you needed, Elena," Draco drawled, as he pulled Ginny closer to him, and used his finger to trace a line down her arm.

The obviously flustered blonde, blushed clear to her roots, before mumbling incoherently, "Umm, the d-danc-ce is over, they're waiting-g for you at –at the table."

That being said, the young girl fled as quickly as possible.

Ginny looked amusedly up at Malfoy, her own fingers now reaching up to touch her own lips, which she realized probably looked like she'd been engaged in hours of snogging instead of just one quick kiss, also realizing his calculated manipulation of the youngsters naiveté. "No wonder they call you the King of Slytherin, you are an absolute snake."

Draco nodded nonchalantly, thinking to himself, that this would probably be the easiest mission he would ever have to accomplish, as well as one of the most amusing.

Ironically the young lady in his arms wasn't nearly as at ease with the situation as he was. She was being trained to duel, to fight. It was so much more simpler, there was right and wrong. Good versus evil. It was black and white. Instinct told her this would not be as simple. Her instincts were screaming at her to get the hell away, it was telling her, this mission appeared and was going much to smoothly, to be true. Like the calm before a storm.

For the first time in his life Draco Edward Malfoy, sole heir to the Malfoy estates and name, _chose to believe_ that a situation was as simple as it seemed.

For the first time in her life, Virginia Molly Weaseley, only daughter of the Weaseley house-hold, _chose to ignore _instincts, which time and surroundings had honed finely for her.

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"Well?" Romilda demanded impatiently, of the quivering young blonde, her temper obvious, while her violet eyes glinted dangerously.

Isabelle rolled her eyes, raising pencil thin eyebrows in union as she shook her head at her cousin's behavior. It was understandable that Romilda be upset, but sending in a idiotic blonde to spy? How much more obvious and predictable could one get?

Seriously as if she'd be able to get anywhere with Malfoy even if he wasn't playing tonsil hockey with the feisty red-head, hadn't Malfoy always steered free of anyone who wasn't a Slytherin, not to mention that he usually preferred petite blondes.

Which of course begged the question…just what did Malfoy think he was doing…a Weaseley, Draco wasn't just a pretty face and he was far from dumb, he had to know that this little tidbit would reach his Auntie Bella in less then a couple hours…so why risk……unless…

Why of course.

Isabella had heard her cousin rant about the Dark Lord's inner minions all of last year, and unless she had a faulty memory, the Malfoy's had been the Dark Lord's right hand, were the Dark Lord's right hand.

It was so obvious, Weaseley was Malfoy's mission.

**A/N:** Just something I'd thought ya'll might want to know, is that if any of you noticed the phrases "chose to believe" and "chose to ignore" are in italics, I wanted to emphasize just how important the choice's of those two were rather than their situation, or circumstance. Those to lines are there exactly to push how very significant a persons little choices are when it comes to a bigger picture.

Neway, thnks for reading and hugs and kisses to every1 who reviewed, thank u it means the world.

And PLZ do REVIEW!!


	6. Trembling Trust

Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

**Trembling Trust**

Why?

Oh, God why?!

Why did he have to be there, why had she gone, she could have just as easily let Harry drop the children off.

Stupid, stupid her.

But he had been there…as had his wife…

Mrs. Malfoy

Mrs. Draco Malfoy…

Still she had to shut her mind off to retain any semblance of normalcy.

Almost twenty years and it still cut into her like the edge of a blunt knife.

Seated on the floor of the enormous master bathroom of Potter Park, Virginia Molly Potter, wife of Harry Potter, only daughter of Molly and Arthur Weasley, was lost.

The regret she had never acknowledged even in the sanctuary of her own mind, had today come to haunt her.

It was as if in the space of a moment those accusing silver eyes had stripped her of her identity.

Or rather she admitted the identities behind which she hid.

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"Oh please, spare me the, innocent-little-death-eater act. Member's of…," she quickly shot a look at the pale blonde nearly blanching as she saw the curious lift of his pale brow, and swiftly amended, "people I know died at the hands of Death-Eaters. I know exactly what you Death-Eater's in training are like."

"And that would be?"

"Selfish SOB's who are either too cowardly to step out of the 'Death-Eater community' or," she said lifting a brow indelicately, "too selfish, to do so."

"Don't mince your words do you, Weasel?"

"Only in polite company, _Ferret_."

But Malfoy it seemed, was no longer, paying any attention to her. His ash colored eyes darting across her shoulder, before grabbing her by the arm and pulling her down the same strip of hall, into a broom cupboard, which had just appeared.

Ginny who until then had been too shocked to actually say or do anything, gasped snatched her arm out of his grip and made to walk down the hall until she felt a cool steal over her body.

She tried to raise her hand, but couldn't.

Imperius Curse, she guessed immediately.

She felt leaden feet drag her to the broom cupboard, and let herself in.

"I'm going to lift the curse, however, considering that Alecto is patrolling outside this cupboard at this very instant, I would advise that you not scream."

The cool and deliberate calculative calm in the husky whisper made Ginny's skin crawl.

_Damn him. _She thought fiercely, however her amber eyes lost most of its rebellion and when he indeed lifted the curse, she was silent as a rock.

Silent she may be, noted Draco grimly, moments later, when he cast a silent direction spell to determine Alecto's position, but the sparks her eyes were shooting her were worthy of a fiend fire's own.

He looked at the door and noted that the black spot indicating Alecto's position had moved off the entire floor.

He turned around, looking her dead in the eye, "Listen to me Weasel, and listen carefully, the Carrows' are not Umbrige. They are worse, much worse, you won't last ten minutes under their 'interrogation' or 'punishments'."

"Are you trying to scare me, Malfoy?" sneered Ginny her bottom lip curling contemptuously.

"Do you really think nobody knows who's behind the little stunts 'Dumbledore's Army' is pulling?" snarled Malfoy with such ferocity, Ginny backed against the closet wall was forced to turn her head. "They know, and by Merlin they will make you pay. These people are better at the Cruciatus, than _Potter_ is at Expelliarmus."

Ginny's eyes snapped towards his again, a question lingering in its depths.

"Don't you dare take that tone about Harry, he is ten times the man you are."

"Ah, but of course, 'pickled toads' was it?" he sneered.

"Oh, puh-leez! I was what eleven?"

"Apparently age doesn't always bring maturity."

"Really? Well we'll see about that. Tell you what oh-mature-ferret, half-past twelve, trophy room."

"Excuse you?"

"Half-past twelve in the trophy room tomorrow, Dumbledore's Army will be sending out its latest recruitment message." She said smugly.

"And why the fuck are you telling me this?"

"Just checking how mature you got since the last time, you pulled a midnight stunt in the trophy room."

She glanced once more at the black spot on the map of the closet door that was now patrolling in front of the Hufflepuff common room, and slipped quietly out of the closet, living behind a perfectly livid Slytherin.


	7. The Damned

**Chapter Seven**

**The Damned**

"Merlin, Izzy Darling you're so obviously right!!" Exclaimed Romilda, her dark hair, inherited from her Latino Grandfather, now suspended in a French knot, as she stared at her cousin through her mirror, just as Isabelle finished explaining her theory regarding Malfoy's interest in Weasley.

"It is quite self explanatory," admitted Isabelle who was still thinking of someone who could give her some confirmation towards that particular theory of hers. _Hmmm. Goyle perhaps? No he'd never be privy to any of that information, Zabini would be…but getting him to talk would be another story altogether._

"What are you going to do about it Mille?"

"I think we should test out the waters a bit, include Weaseley in the inner circle, let her feel like she's one of us, in the meantime I want someone on the inside, I want information I can trust, not some stupid theory Crabbe has am I clear?" she demanded, her violet eyes flashing.

_Of course._ Isabelle smiled sweetly. _Romilda Vane darling of the Vane household must always have what she wants. _

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"Admit it." Drawled Draco in the young weaselette's very elegant ear, as he smoothly clutched her to him, after he had just dipped her on the dimly lit dance floor.

"Admit what?" she asked feigning ignorance, as he fitted her body against his own, as he swept her into the graceful steps of the dance.

Damn but she cleaned up good.

Clad in a sea-green gown, with a daring low bodice, exposing quite nicely several inches of skin, which would otherwise scandalize most society ladies, the gown gaped in the back, bare until a few inches above her very nicely molded derriere. Joined only at the shoulder by a single green satin ribbon.

Almost blood-red tresses hung lose over her back covering his hand where he held her to him at her half-bare waist. Her short fringe half covered her eyes as she clutched his shoulders.

Lifting a insolent brow at her refusal to do as he bid, Draco used the cover of her hair to slide his hands sinuously up her waist and dangerously to a side.

Cinnamon colored eyed wide, and a flush illuminating her quaint scatter of freckles the young lady in question let out a very unladylike curse.

Draco laughed.

Ginny could practically feel his laughter smooth and potent slide over her as he bent down and whispered into her ear, he lips grazing just barely the tiny emerald studs Harry had given her as a birthday present this year, " I am many things my sweet, but a bastard I am not. Now admit it, sweeting it's only fair."

Eyes narrowed at his insolence not to mention his inappropriate …er petting…Ginny conceded gracelessly. "Fine, I admit it, you were right 'Mille' dear even invited me to tea this evening. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

"I loathe you. God no wonder everyone hates you, you're a right git!"

"Why my darling, you say it as if you had no idea!"

"Bastard."

"Slow on the uptake aren't you, Nott is the bastard, I'm the legitimate one, one of the few I might add."

"I cannot wait to watch Harry curse that audacious smirk off your face."

"High hopes for the boy-who-keeps-getting-people-around-him-murdered, I'd stay away from him if I were you."

"He's worth ten of you, at least he has the courage to stand up for what he believes in."

"Now darling, what makes you say this isn't what I believe in."

"The fact that you would prefer the company of a blood-traitor like me, to that of a pure-blood like Romilda, or her cousin for that matter."



"I do what I have to, to survive."

"And damn the consequences, eh?."

"Bull's eye."

"You are going to regret being who you claim to be one day, you know that, you are going to regret not standing up and actually becoming who you could be."

"And you my dear are stupidly idealistic."

Ginny just smiled, tut-ting almost silently. Tsk tsk.

The music, ended and Gabriel Mckinnon cut in, offering Draco a nod of apology as he whisked her away.

"My god that chit is bloody-gorgeous, I'd bed her in a trice, gang of brothers or no." breathed Blaise, as he came up to Draco offering him a much needed glass of Madeira.

"To bad she's a Weaseley." Intoned Flint who had obviously heard Blaise's comment.

Draco stood mute, his nod acknowledging the veiled reprimand in Flints word.

_She was a Weaseley. _

_A blood-traitor. _

_Harry-bloody-Potter's girlfriend._

_No self respecting Death-Eater would even……. Damn…damn damn damn._

_Good thing he was doing this for the mission._

_Yeah the mission._

_Oh, damn._

**A/N: Hey!! Sry for the long wait been on vaca in Austrailia….running around Sydney, Melbourne and Geelong haven't had tym to breathe!! Neway this is a short update with a longer one soon hopefully!! :D **

**And as Always….REVIEW PLZ!!**

**Oh btw, have started a new next generation fic, summary below:**

**Finding Enemy Lines**

The war is over, but the battles still wage. Follow two youngsters fight out family rivalry, in an esteemed Magical Law Enforcement Unit, while they train to fight darkness with darkness, where they battle against each other only to later fight for each other. Watch the Potter's, Malfoy's , Jordan's, and Longbottom's of the newest generation fight out their differences as they grow as people and officers in this epic tale.


	8. A beautiful damnation

**Chapter Eight**

**A beautiful damnation **

_Sixteen Years ago, Hogwarts._

For the first time since Ginny began the various DA smear campaigns, against the 'Hogwarts Administration', Ginny walked into a room with less than complete confidence.

She walked in _expecting_ to be captured.

Neville had been furious when he heard what she'd done, insisting that the mission be cancelled, or at the least that they send in someone else, "We can't afford to lose one of the leaders Gin, Harry and them aren't here, it's up to you, Luna and me to keep DA running."

Ginny had stubbornly refused, and in the end Weasley will had prevailed.

By prevailed of course she _meant_ she'd taken a page out of Hermione's book and body-bind-ed him.

Lord but for once she was realizing how bloody irritating Gryffindor loyalty could be.

For the love of Merlin! Three weeks in close proximity and she was even thinking like a Slytherin!

At the sound of firm foot-steps Ginny flattened herself against the wall, allowing her delusion charm to function to its fullest ability.

"Mrs. Norris? C'mon, no kiddies here…me doesn't like you being in this corridor…c'mon…"

The heavy brogue in the rasping voice was as familiar to Ginny as the realization of where she was. Stiffening slightly as she realized she was flattened, against the same was she had once written on, under Riddle's influence of course. Not, of course that, that changed the fact that it still haunted her how close she had come to murdering students, it had been sheer dumb luck of course that no one had died.

Gathering her cloak closer, as Ginny had suddenly felt an unanticipated chill go up her spine, and immediately departed towards the Tropy Room, entering it with utmost care, careful that the door did not so much as creak, at the same time wondering what would be on the other side of the door.

Malfoy? She wondered.

Not likely, he'd probably sent in some goons to trip her up, and he'd be waiting of course in the Headmaster's office to present his little catch.

Pushing the door open with one hand, Ginny carefully palmed a small ball of Perusion Powder, curtsey of course of WWW.

The sight that greeted her left her dumb-founded.

A single rose floated in the middle of the room.

A single white rose.

_It was so typical_, she decided annoyed _it was probably some sort of trap_ _except now it was also a reminder of that night at Vane Lane._

Of a quaint little rose garden blossoming (to Mrs. Vane's dismay)with white roses.

Of that kiss.

Of both kisses ironically.

It was even more ironic, that even now as she reached for the rose mentally preparing to be porkey'd of for a Tom Ridddle face-off, the fact that he'd kissed Isabel didn't hurt as much as the thought that he'd kissed her right after their explosive encounter….well explosive for her anyway, _she'd_ fled to the sanctuary of her room, trailing herself to the balcony in hopes of seeing him look up to her. She had most certainly got her wish, she saw him, had a very clear view of him in fact… almost as good as her view on his lip-lock with Romilda's cousin Bella…

As her fingers slid across the stem to the soft petals, Ginny closed her eyes, just for a moment allowing her self to sink into memory of that kiss.

It had been the one memory relating to those three weeks that she had been unable to block off completely.

She'd tried.

By Merlin she'd tried.

Ever since she'd been back at Hogwarts, she'd even tried using another guy to rid herself of that memory.

The result of which was her ending up in practically all the second floor broom-shed's, lips locked in on some adolescent attempting to fondle her, while she tried honest to Circe to forget about that haunting kiss.

"It wasn't what it seemed, you know, you never did give me a chance to explain." Drawled a deep voice from the shadow in the corners.

Even with her eye's closed, Ginny could see the annoyed hitch in his brow, his arms crossed loosely across his chest…

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"_Au contraire, cherie, _you know exactly what I am talking about."

Her eyes narrowing dangerously, Ginny swept him a scathing glare.

Tossing the rose at him as she turned, wand out, in order to scrawl the DA message on the walls.

Absolute silence filled the now near suffocating room.

Ginny could feel him.

She could literally feel him burn a hole into the back of her head, as she deliberately embellished the usual recruitment message.

Turning as she finished she walked carefully head high to the door before pausing, tilting her head ever so slightly to the left she allowed a perilously smug smile to lift the corners of her lips.

"You know this time I can say this and actually mean it, not just say it 'cuz you're Death-Eater Malfoy-scum, but actually say it to you. _'Go to hell."_

The next minute would be a minute she would reply in her mind for the rest of her life.

She would replay it over and over in her mind and wonder, how it was possible to move that fast, how he had shut the door before she had even turned the handle, without magic.

She would remember, the way his arm had shot out against the door, effectively pining her to it as well as blocking the door, she would remember the way his lips had descended to an inch of hers before breathing softly upon her lip, "_I am already in hell, love."_

The next minutes were as she often called them time stolen in time.

He slowly, achingly kissed her, his lips barely caressing hers.

"Come with me," He implored, his hands cradling her face, as if she was made of the most delicate porcelain. "Ask anything of me, anything that is mine to give."

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It seemed only moments later that Ginny stood in his personal Head-Boy quarters.

Lost in the glorious abandon in his kisses, Ginny felt an almost physical pain as she tore her lips from his.

Her soft brown eyes were bound in hope and desperation.

Hope… that he cared for her enough to allow her the one stipulation her conscience demanded of her before she could allow herself to care for him as she feared she already did.

"Swear to me," she asked, eyes downcast, her voice a mere whisper, "that you will never raise your wand against my family?"

Lean fingers that had been till now caressing her waist, reached up and cupped her chin, gently forcing her to look at him. As if touched by her respect for him that she had not asked him to change sides for her, and humbled that she had asked him to merely stay his wand in favor of her family when she _knew_, if any of her friends or acquaintances were faced with him, his past three years of training at his aunt's hand would surely give him a decided advantage. And above all the understanding that this one condition was all she meant to ask of him, despite being torn apart in the conflicts of what she was doing, decided Draco.

His answer, as he caressed the side of her face with one lean finger, was a rough yet softly uttered, "Yes."

The stiffness that had taken over her slight form ever since she pulled away from his embrace, melted.

Raising trust filled unashamed eyes to his, Ginny achingly whispered, "Make love to me, Draco."

Lips twisting in a lazy grin that transformed his usually stoic face, Draco Malfoy, was never more happy to oblige.

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